


Sleepover (Inktober Day 5)

by cherryberry12



Series: Inktober 2020 [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bad Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I HC Itachi more "greysexual" but there's no good tag for that, Kinda, im not bullying itachi im kinning him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26940280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryberry12/pseuds/cherryberry12
Summary: "Some things, Itachi thinks, are simply not for them."In which Itachi and Karin attempt kinky sex, and it goes about as well as you'd expect it to.
Relationships: Karin/Uchiha Itachi
Series: Inktober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958443
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Sleepover (Inktober Day 5)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm of two minds here. 
> 
> I like to think it goes without saying, but this not realistic BDSM or kink, in like any sense of the word. Both character haven't done their research, and are mostly working off of an idea of what they *think* BDSM is or ought to be. They get some things right, but this is basically on par with your aunt who watched 50 Shades and thought that was enough of an education. 
> 
> It's an idea I've wanted to do for a while, though--Itachi is very nonsexual to me but Karin is absolutely the opposite, and I wanted a way to reconcile that in a way that is true to their relationship while also being fun to write and hopefully fun to read as well.

Some things, Itachi thinks, are simply not for them.

“I just think you’d be good at it, is all,” Karin tells him. She leans over his kitchen counter, casually flipping through a recipe book while she watches him work. “You don’t get as far up in ANBU as you are unless you know how to choke a bitch.”

“Well.” He believes she means it as a compliment, but her choice of words leaves something to be desired. “You aren’t entirely wrong about that.”

“I mean, you’re already kind of a control freak; I don’t see why you wouldn’t wanna manhandle me at least a little.”

He shoots her a stern look, but Karin only grins back at him. 

“I’m not sure whether to take that as an insult or not,” he says. “As it stands, I am perfectly satisfied with the current state of our relationship.”

After a moment, he adds, “And I am not a control freak.”

Karin snorts. “I’m pretty sure you’re alphabetizing your spice cabinet right now.”

“‘Well,” he says, closing the cupboard door. “I wouldn’t have to if you would just put things back where they belong.”  
.  
.  
.  
Karin is, as he’s gradually learned, virtually impossible for him to refuse. In some ways, it’s his own fault—with Sasuke having grown up and moved out of their parents’ home, Itachi has no one to indulge, no one to spoil.

Karin has been all too glad to occupy that niche.

He starts with research, because research is a very comfortable space for him, and matters of sexual experimentation decidedly are not. He’s rather content with the sex he and Karin usually have—adventurous it is not, but it happens often enough that Itachi can only assume that Karin is satisfied with it.

He has no real preferences of his own as to how it gets done, so long as he gets to be close to her for however long it lasts.

(It never does last particularly long, but he supposes that may be one reason Karin has suddenly sprung an interest in changing things.) 

He isn’t particularly opposed to what Karin is asking, however—Karin wants to be indulged, and so he indulges her. He visits her apartment and peruses her shelves, looking through the numerous romance novels she’s collected since she first arrived in Konoha.

He reads them—all of them, regardless of their lackluster quality. He doesn’t enjoy a single moment of it, but he dutifully reads through them, takes careful notes, and does his best to give Karin the benefit of the doubt.

( _If you would like to read something better, I have a few suggestions_ —he offers once, staring down the table of contents for _The Nukenin and His Hostage._

Karin rolls her eyes. _I’m sure you do._ )

Two weeks later, he pushes her down onto her bed and ties her arms to the headboard with a handcuff knot that is, admittedly, well-practiced. 

He might not have the same interest or understanding of these things that Karin does, but it is important to him that he does them right. 

Karin tests the rope, finds that it’s sturdy enough to hold her in place, and gives him an approving nod. “Huh. Not bad,” she says. “What now?”

This is where things get interesting for them both—Karin is almost always the more forward of the two of them, the one who has never hesitated to place his hands exactly where she’d like them, who has never once shied away from barking orders at him.

In asking for this particular arrangement, Karin has necessarily conceded that to him. For better or for worse, Karin is permitting him to make those decisions on her behalf. 

It starts off well enough; if anything, his job is easier now with Karin’s hands out of the way. 

He starts by unzipping her shirt, and she’s more than receptive to it—he doesn’t need his Sharingan to catch the tiny hitches in her breath, the pink flush rising in her cheeks.

Karin blinks up at him innocently. “Are you going to have your wicked way with me, sir?” 

“Something like that.”

Her shirt falls open. She isn’t wearing a bra—he wonders if he’s only happened to catch her at an opportune moment or if this is something she’s anticipated, something she has been expecting.

With Karin, it’s often difficult to tell. 

Itachi pushes the halves of her shirt further apart, his fingers grazing her uncovered stomach and ribs, stopping just shy of the curve of her breast. 

Karin’s body arches up to meet his touch. “Hah… Okay, you don’t have to take forever, though.”

“Hm.” He reaches up, tipping her chin back and exposing her neck. Karin’s pulse jumps under his fingertips, her breathing suddenly much quicker, much sharper. “I don’t see why I can’t.” 

Karin whines, and Itachi releases his hold on her, giving her a gentle pat on the head. 

With Karin’s glare boring holes into him, he traces his fingers over the sharp contours of her collarbone, over the soft skin where her neck and jaw meet. 

It’s a newfound freedom for him—ordinarily he would have the great task of fighting off Karin’s notoriously busy hands, but now he can proceed at his pleasure. 

He isn’t aiming for anything in particular; sometimes, it’s just nice to touch her. 

When Karin subsequently sticks her tongue out at him, he smiles. “There’s no harm in being patient, Karin.”

“Like hell there isn’t,” Karin mutters. She begins to squirm under him, and he supposes there’s no harm in moving things forward just a little. 

One trend he had realized in his reading was that dialogue was often afforded the same weight and gravity as the act itself. While the way he touches her is important, how he addresses Karin is equally important. 

Itachi has spent no small amount of time contemplating the nuances of this. 

_Slut_ is far too aggressive for his liking, and he’s heard Karin called a _bitch_ far too many times to feel comfortable using the term against her now. Other names - most involving some reference to genitals or bodily fluids - are simply too vulgar for him to repeat. 

They all sound bizarre to him, unnatural and clunky even in a manufactured setting such as this, and so he opts for something a lot softer, something decidedly less offensive.

He places his hand over the top of her pants and Karin hisses, rolling her hips up against him. Her legs part easily when he moves his hand lower, but he’s not ready for that just yet—Karin hasn’t quite been worked up to it. 

“You’re awfully quiet now, harlot.”

Karin’s hips still. She pauses, her glasses set askew and crooked over her nose. Her face scrunches up until she finally asks, “What did you just call me?” 

“Harlot, because you are acting like a harlot.” He pulls the zipper on her pants. “You’re lying here with your legs spread open like a—” 

Karin laughs. 

It is, decidedly, not a good sign. 

“Your behavior is indecent,” he tells her, refusing to let her shake his resolve. “Shameful.” 

“Oh my _god_.” Karin cackles louder. “I cannot take you seriously if you’re going to talk like that.”

Itachi clings to a stiff upper lip, but slowly feels his resolve crumble. He sighs. “I take it that was not a good choice of words.”

“Not even close.” Karin shakes her head and finally slips her hand through her bindings. The miniature knife she’d used to cut through them disappears up her sleeve, and she leans forward, giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “I appreciate the attempt, though.”

Itachi returns to his research.  
.  
.  
.  
Karin is a little too large to fit over his lap, he thinks, but she doesn’t seem to mind it all that much. It isn’t the worst angle—he thinks he’d rather prefer to have her face him than not, but she clearly enjoys it.

She grins at him over her shoulder. “So does that mean I can call you Daddy?” she asks.

“Absolutely not.” 

Karin huffs. “You’re no fun.” 

Well. He’s certainly trying his best. 

Finding his previous approach in sore need of revision, Itachi has opted for something more intimate. Something less verbal. 

Quite frankly he can’t even fathom the appeal of this, but a foray into the darker realms of sexual contact seems deficient without at least one spanking. 

At least, that’s what his reading has led him to believe. 

He dips his hand between Karin’s thighs, pulling her skirt up and tugging her undergarments down to her knees. He’s never known Karin to be particularly fond of skirts - and cannot easily recall the last time he’d seen her wear one - and he can only assume that the one she’s wearing now is at least a tacit endorsement of what he’s planned. 

“Your safe word is going to be _Shimura_. Do you understand?” 

Karin snorts. “Well, if you want to instantly kill my boner, that’s the way to do it.”

“I would mind your tongue a little more carefully, Karin,” he warns. “In fact, I would consider your words very carefully.”

His ego is, perhaps, still somewhat bruised from their last encounter of this nature. 

Karin cocks an eyebrow at him. “Yeah? Or what?”

“Or else I might need to punish you.” 

Karin rolls her eyes, which is all the provocation he needs before he brings his hand down against her bottom with a firm _smack_.

Not too firm, however—he had no desire to see Karin in actual pain, regardless of whether she’d find a perverse kind of joy in it. 

Still, it’s firm enough to get a response out of her—“Ow!” 

“Good.” Itachi helpfully recalls how this scene often plays out in Karin’s romance novels—what she would expect to come next. ”Now you are going to count them out. That was one—” 

“No! That hurt! What the fuck, Itachi?”

“I said, you are going to count out your spankings.” 

“Like hell I am!”

His hand hesitates. Karin hasn’t used her safe word yet, but she sounds rather irritated. “You are being punished, and this is your punishment. Keep your head down, unless—” 

“No! Don’t you dare do that again!” Karin shoots him a dirty look and wiggles out of his hold, pulling her undergarments back into place and standing.

She turns around, inching up the back of her skirt to look at herself in her bedroom mirror. 

Her mouth drops open. “My ass is all red!” she snaps, though it’s barely even pink. “You better hope this doesn’t leave a mark!” 

Itachi sighs, already getting up to get Karin an ice pack from her kitchen. “I imagine your healing abilities are more than equipped to handle it.”  
.  
.  
.  
They use a gag the next time. 

It’s his idea, though Karin raises no concerns. _So you’re finally gonna take this shit seriously, right? Because watching you fuck around is getting to be a little embarrassing._

Needless to say, the gag has only become more appealing since then. 

Itachi again opts to tie her up but is determined to show he’s learned from his mistakes—he has her strip first and sets her face down on her bed, her knees bent and her hips canted up. He then ties her arms behind her back, and quickly confiscates several of the knives she hides on her person.

He finds it highly unlikely that Karin would ever try to stab him in the middle of the act, but she’s thrown him enough dirty looks since the spanking incident that he can’t be entirely sure. 

“You’ve misbehaved, Karin,” he tells her. He is growing frustrated enough with these encounters that he’s fairly certain he means it, too. “And I believe you’ll need to be punished for that.” 

Karin groans, and the sound is rather gratifying—he rewards her for it with a kiss to her bare hip, a hand tracing the wet patches between her thighs. 

Realizing she’s already aroused is also more than a little gratifying. 

Karin, impatient as she is, strains against the bindings, her shoulders flexing. Her hands clench and unclench, grasping toward him.

“No, not yet,” he tells her. “I’m not even close to done yet.” 

Karin lets out a choked, muffled sound. It isn’t quite a moan and isn’t entirely a gasp, but he likes it enough that he kisses her again, pressing his lips against each rut in her ribcage as he works his way up her torso.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget how slight Karin truly is—so much of her height is illusory, fabricated by her large personality, her biting wit.

She’s a little bit softer like this, he thinks—a little bit easier to boss around. 

He runs his hand down the knobby column of her back and continues. “I’m sorely tempted to leave you like this. How do you feel about that, Karin?”

Having no other way to respond, Karin lets out another moan, so unrestrained and desperate that it might as well be a sob.

Itachi is beginning to think he’s finally managed to get this right. 

“I could keep you like this for hours if I wanted to.” Of course, actually doing so would be both impractical and cruel, but for the sake of roleplay it’s a tempting possibility. “I haven’t even decided yet if I’ll let you come at all.”

Karin makes another strangled noise, which he takes to be a gasp or a moan until he hears her snort and realizes that—that she’s laughing. 

At him. 

Again. 

He nearly ends their game right then and there, but he’s determined to get this right eventually. He concedes a little ground and finally puts his hand where she’d like it, stroking between her legs, moving a single finger in slow circles over her clit. She inhales through her nose and pushes back against his hand, her hips stuttering back toward him.

It seems as though he’s finally gotten things back on track until he speaks up again.

If he’s learned anything in these last months, it’s that he really ought to stop doing that. 

He circles her opening, teasing her lightly with the tip of his finger before she presses back against him, forcing his finger deeper inside of her. It’s a lovely sight, and any other time he would be glad to see her so enthusiastic, but he’s still not quite in the mood to be kind to her. 

“You look pathetic,” he tells her. “Grinding desperately into my hand, unable to even control yourself… It’s pitiable.”

Karin snorts. 

He does his best to ignore it. “Someone like you is barely even worth my attention.”

She snorts again. 

“What?” he finally demands. When Karin is obviously unable to answer, he leans over her back and pulls the gag away from her mouth. “Tell me what it is—why you keep laughing.” 

“I’m sorry, I just—” Karin breaks out into a fit of giggles, her shoulders shaking. “I can—your chakra—you’re _lying_.” 

“Of course I was lying.” He frowns. “You are being extraordinarily ornery tonight.”

Karin’s laughter stops, and if he had any more sympathy to spare on her he would almost feel bad about it. “You were telling the truth that time.”

“Yes, I was.” He sighs. “Quite frankly this has been a frustrating endeavor from the start, and I’m not particularly inclined to continue.” With a sigh, he reaches behind her to undo her bindings, only to find that Karin has once again already cut her way through them.

He gives her a flat look. “You are putting a good deal of rope to waste, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Karin turns over onto her back and pulls a blanket over herself, covering most of her naked body. 

Modesty has never been an interest of hers, so he can only assume that she’s cold.

Her wrists are red too, he notices—slightly swollen where she’d strained against her bindings. It’s nothing that won’t fade in an hour or so, but he sighs again and dutifully pulls her against him, intending to rub away any of the remaining soreness in her wrists or shoulders.

Karin snuggles close to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Y’know, I’d mostly been hoping for this part—the whole _taking care of me bit_.” She grins sheepishly when he cocks an eyebrow at her. “Not that you don’t already do that.”

“I see.” He looks at the clock—ordinarily he would be leaving soon, but he supposes his parents can miss him for one night. “I believe I have a spare change of clothes somewhere here, if you would prefer to do something that is, ah, a little more familiar to us.”

“You mean it?” When he nods, Karin grins and crawls into his lap, hooking her legs around his waist. 

“You don’t have to think about this at all,” she whispers, just as she takes one of his hands and places it on her breast, guiding the other down between her legs. “I’m gonna tell you exactly what I want you to do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out! It's been busy and this one had multiple scenes, I kept touching up certain things, etc. Thank you for reading through! 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos, etc are all appreciated!


End file.
